“No, I’m good.”
I somehow make it back to my house without getting a speeding ticket or blowing any traffic lights. Fortunately, Remy looked like he thought I was just joyriding, as though I was high off the Panthers crushing the Cougars.
When we’ve parked, in my haste, I round the front of my truck before he does, so I miss the chance to see if he was going to head for my front door or his car. “Do you want to come in and pick out some bad TV?”
Fancy, Chris. Real smooth.
“Only because thatisthe only kind of TV I watch.”
He reaches for my hand, and we walk up my pathway. I’m going to count that as walking him to the door, even though it’s not his.
Remy gives Gale welcome scratches and the sweet talk she’s a glutton for whenever he’s around. I head to the sunporch and let her out to do her business, hoping she makes it quick while my blood still feels like it’s flowing where it needs to go.
As I lean on the doorjamb and wait for her, Remy sidles up to me and rests his hand on the small of my back. Leaning up, he gives me a kiss.
“Thanks for taking me to a game with you. I hope I didn’t interfere with your getting all the notes you need.”
Notes?Who cares about notes?
Circling my arms around him, I brush his top lip and then the bottom one with my own. He does that thing where it feels like he’s melting into me, which drives me mad, parting his lips in invitation. This time, it sends even more blood to my half-hard cock. When my tongue slides against his, the static it sends through me is like seeing an old black-and-white filmremastered into color. I grunt and hold him tighter. Just the simple graze of his hand up my side over my sweatshirt has amplified results. It’s like making out with Remy two-point-oh.
I don’t know if this was technically a first date, and I know going all the way isn’t first-date protocol, but we put the cart before the horse years ago. Shifting my hips forward, I press my erection into his thigh, sliding my hands down to his ass to hold him closer. He gasps and glances down between us.
“So…thishas been happening all night, if you want to take advantage of it.”
“Was it from watching me shove hot dogs in my face?”
“It’s from you beingyou.”
I kiss him again, deeper this time, hoping he’ll take me up on making use of my development. He makes a satisfied noise, leaning harder against me. Maybe it sounds sophomoric, but it’s incredibly validating to have a hard-on and be able to show your boyfriend. I can’t count how many times I got one just from thinking about him years ago and had to try to hide it. I never had a good reason to hide, even if it took me years to realize that. I sure as hell don’t want to hide now.
“Come home with me,” I whisper.
“I think I already did,” he chuckles.
“I mean for Christmas…if you didn’t make other plans already. I’d love to bring you home with me to meet my family.” I rub my thumbs anxiously against the small of his back, praying I don’t scare him. This is definitely not afirst-dateconversation. When the flicker of surprise in his eyes passes, he smiles.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He didn’t even hesitate, so I want to make sure I heard him correctly.
“Yeah.”
Pushing off me, he takes a step back, peeling his sweatshirt and undershirt over his head in one go. His bare chest is amore radiant sight than the warm glow from the light in my living room. He keeps stepping back, the corner of his mouth curved upward, as he reaches for the button of his jeans. It’s a slow, traveling striptease, and I can tell its end destination is my bedroom. It’s the same stupid way I used to try to lure him into getting into bed more quickly; however, his doing it has to be a hell of a lot sexier than when I did. I don’t even look at his hands when I hear his zipper lower. The heat in his eyes and the hopefulness are barer sights than any naked flesh.
Fuck me. How did I get this lucky?
I take a step toward him, but then remember I was standing by the sunporch door for a reason. “Shit,” I mutter, spinning around and opening the patio door. “Gale! Get your ass in here!”
As soon as her tail clears the door, I shut and lock it. When I turn around, Remy is gone, but I hear thethudof shoes hitting the floor in my bedroom.
Giving myself a stroke over my jeans, I stalk to my room and start lifting my sweatshirt up with my other hand. I feel like a damn hunter who came home empty-handed but is about to be rewarded for putting in a good effort all season. Flinging my shirt to the floor in the hallway, I stop to admire the view when I reach my doorway.
Remy slips his boxer briefs down over his hips, his perfect cock springing free. Shorts now pooled on the floor, he kicks them out of the way and licks his lips. In two steps, I’m kissing him, slipping my fingers into his hair, and running my hand down his back to the smooth skin of his ass. His hands wrench open my fly like he just ate a gummy and has the munchies again. I can’t get enough of his mouth. Each kiss rockets another stream of blissful static through my veins. It pools in my groin, building momentum and feeding my cock for an overdue step in our long-awaited reunion.
Drawing back, he shoves my pants over my hips as I hastily kick my shoes off. “Is it weird that I feel like Jamie might burst in?”
“Yes,” I deadpan, leaning into him until he falls back on the bed with a laugh.
